Lessons From The Goslok Festival
As we enjoyed our final dinner in Iceland with our friends Ivy and Vince, they asked about our favorite place on this trip. Brian and I quickly declared our love for Vestmannaeyjar (Westman Island) without hesitation. So, it was a great irony that I almost decided against visiting. As I plotted our Ring Road journey, the only workable date for our island visit was July 3rd. But to my surprise, there was no available accommodation during that weekend. And when I say no accommodation, that includes everything from capsule hotels to cabins with no indoor plumbing. In addition, the car ferry from the mainland began to sell out more than two weeks in advance. So it didn’t take me long to figure out that something must be up.
After a a few minutes of online research, I discovered that it was the weekend of the Goslok Festival (Goslokahátíð)! Although we have been to plenty of great cultural festivals, none has elicited as much curiosity from me as Goslokahátíð. Translated as the “End of Eruption Festival,” this four-day festival commemorates the declared cessation of the 1973 eruption of Eldfell. The eruption destroyed about one-fifth of the town, with the rest covered by a thick layer of ash. As a result, the eruption of Eldfell earned Vestmannaeyjar the nickname the “Pompeii of the North,” a label that the town embraces nowadays.
On July 3rd, 1973, the authority formally announced that the six-month-long eruption was finally over. Since then, the islanders have marked the day to commemorate the eruption and celebrated it the first weekend of every July. Like any island community, the people of Vestmannaeyjar are proud of their unique heritage and are eager to distinguish themselves from the mainlanders. Today, the most noted festival in Vestmannaeyjar is the National Festival (Þjóðhátíð) in August. But the lower-profile Goslok Festival is truly dear to islanders’ hearts.
As a tourist, I approached this festival the same as other great cultural festivals like the Baltic Song and Dance Festivals. Before my arrival, I regularly scoured the internet to better grasp the festival's ‘structure’ and ‘program’. Is there a formal ceremony to open the festival? Is there a ticket structure? Is there any reservation that I should know? Is there a signature event or traditional ceremony that is essential to the festival? How do we make the most out of our relatively short visit? To add to the uncertainty, the shifting COVID-related restrictions seem to throw the whole festival into limbo. As the festival approaches, it seems like Iceland’s restriction on gathering has been gradually eased. Indeed, the Icelandic government lifted all restrictions on gatherings on the day of our arrival in the country.
After a few weeks of research, it seems like the only available information was the Facebook page of the festival steering committee. I could dig up the festival schedule from 2019, which was in Icelandic only. It was not until a few days before the festival that the program was posted. Ironically, I didn’t see it until I arrived in Vestmannaeyjar. Without much time to research, I could not decipher many of the activities. Many things do not seem to relate to the eruption specifically. Inevitably, I started to doubt myself… is visiting Vestmannaeyjar during this festival a mistake?
I would be disingenuous to say that I was not disappointed. Slightly dispirited, we decided to pay a visit to Eldheimar Museum. The museum documents the history of the eruption and the first-hand accounts of former residents. The core of the museum is the excavated house of Mrs. Gerður Sigurðardóttir and Mr. Guðni Ólafsso, which was buried in ash for more than forty years. She accounts just how painful it was to return to her former home, but educating the future generation about what transpired in 1973 was still worthwhile.
For many islanders who went through the trauma of 1973, some never returned and rebuilt their former lives. As one of the most culturally important festivals on the island, Goslokahátíð is also an important opportunity to welcome former islanders back to Vestmannaeyjar. It suddenly dawned on me that the festival's purpose was not to celebrate or memorialize the eruption but the homecoming for former residents. Reliving the eruption was never the objective; the festival celebrates much-appreciated normalcy. With this understanding, we began appreciating the seemingly mundane activities from bouncy castles to the airbrush tattoo station.
Around the island, the festivities showcase the islanders' artistic and musical talents. Although few showcase the connections to the Eldfell eruption, they are the exception. After studying the official program, I could identify activities that may hold more symbolic meanings. These include the concert at the Stafkirkjan and mass at the cross on Eldfell. One activity that we were sad to miss out on was the guided climb of the Home Rock (Heimaklettur), which would have been an epic 45-minute hike for the best view of the Westman Island archipelago.
Unsurprisingly, the volcano iconography is commonplace around Vestmannaeyjar. As traumatic as the 1973 eruption was, the locals know they have no choice but to live peacefully with its volcano. Luckily, no fatality resulted from the eruption, so the volcano is now considered a symbol of rebirth and community resilience. Around town, many houses have strung up party pennants with the color of a volcano eruption. One of my favorites is a small exhibit at a local community museum, Sagnheimar, showcasing the artworks of local children.
The most recognizable symbol of the festival is the so-called “Eruption Flag” (Gosfánum). Just about everywhere we turned, this flag’s omnipresence astonished me. It was easy to mistake it for the municipal flag of Vestmannaeyjar since the flags were dotted around the island, from private homes to construction sites. Being a self-fashioned aficionado of vexillology, I am impressed with its effective design and symbolism. This flag was created in 2018 and is now flown on the anniversary of the beginning and end of the eruption. The flag is to be flown in different orientations depending on the anniversary. It is quite an ingenious design that I believe deserves praise among vexillologists.
For gluttons like ourselves, we were delighted to learn that several local restaurants feature a special menu dedicated to the Goslok Festival. Our favorite restaurant on this trip was Slippurinn, an internationally known restaurant right by the harborfront. Run by Vestmannaeyjar native Gísli Matt, the eatery embraces all things local, from ingredient sourcing to preparation. This is just one of the few highly recommended restaurants in Rick Steve’s guidebook.
The absolute highlight of the menu was their “End of Eruption Dessert” (Gosloka Eftirrettur). The dish comprises licorice pavlova with chervil, seabuckthorn, white chocolate & rhubarb granita. It is by far our favorite dessert to date. Not only did this dish mimic the aesthetic of an erupting volcano, but the flavor is also distinctively Icelandic. It was not until we visited the fresh lava field near the active Geldingardalur volcano that we realized that freshly solidified lava has the same texture as pavlova.
Just as we were wrapping dinner, the Saturday concert was ramping up. The concert was a festival highlight and attracted many of Iceland’s best-known artists. Interestingly, the program was entirely Icelandic, but almost every song performed was in English. While I could not decode all the speeches, the locals' energy was infectious. Best of all, the whole concert was also catered for by the team from Slippurinn.
We contemplated extending our stay at Vestmannaeyjar. If it were not for the fully booked car ferry around the festival weekend and the low availability of accommodation, we would not be able to partake in more festival events. Goslok Festival aside, Westman Islands itself is an amazing destination. For me, the Goslok Festival will always have a special place in my heart; it reminded me that a great cultural festival need not be eccentric or tradition-bound as foreign travelers often wish it to be.